If Flowers Could Prove Miracles
by lunarlychallenged
Summary: Four times Farkle did not read into the meanings of Riley's flowers, and one time he did.


Four Times Farkle Didn't Understand Flower Languages...

Lilac

Riley laid in the grass on her tummy, not caring about the grass stains she would surely get all over her pink overalls. Farkle sat crosslegged as he looked around with his binoculars. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, since everything was equally interesting to the six year old pseudo-scientist, but he gazed eagerly at the ghost moon in the sky. Riley looked up at him and giggled. His eyes goggled through the glass lenses.

They were far away from the other kids on the playground, like they always were. Riley had trouble focusing in games of kickball, so nobody ever wanted to choose her for their team. She always ended up sitting down to blow on the dandelions puffs in the outfield or chasing a butterfly when she should have been getting ready to run to the next base. Farkle liked games, but the way he talked annoyed the other kids. The fact that he talked at all, actually. It was always just them, but they had found that that was how they liked it.

"What're you doing?" he asked, looking over at her. Her giggles turned to carefree laughter when his humorously magnified blue eyes looked directly at her.

"I'm making a flower crown," she said with satisfaction. She held up a chain of lilac buds, only just starting to bloom. They were the color that the flower was named for.

"That's nice." He looked back up at the sky, but she didn't look away. She liked looking at Farkle. He looked pretty goofy in his turtlenecks, and his hair sat like an upside down bowl on his head, but his smile made his eyes crinkle in a way that made her heart feel crinkly too.

She carefully weaved the strands of stem together, tying the knots as tight as her little fingers would allow. Farkle looked back down at her. He forgot to move his binoculars away from his eyes, so his view of her was restricted to where her tongue poked out between the gap where one of her bottom teeth used to be. When he looked over the edge of the binoculars at her, her brown eyes gleamed back up at him. She sat up, not bothering to brush away the strands of grass from her clothes.

"Here!" She carefully lowered her crown over his chestnut hair. He froze, not wanting to it to tip off. The lilac looked nice on him, but it clashed horribly with his bright orange turtleneck. He was not, nor would he ever be, a stickler for color coordinating, so he beamed at her.

"How do I look?"

She grinned. "Like a prince," she said fondly.

Neither of them knew about the meanings of flowers, not then. Riley would memorize as many of the meanings as she could when she got older, but this moment wouldn't come back to her. If it had, she would have known that lilacs stood for the first emotions of love.

The Bouquet

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Riles?" Though they were only eleven, Maya could make herself sound as mature as anybody twenty years older. It was one of the ways Maya and Riley balanced each other out. It had been good for the both of them when Maya crawled through Riley's window when they were in third grade. That was around the time that Maya's father left for good. He had almost left once before, but he and Katie had worked things out, only putting off the terrible damage his departure would cause Maya. When he finally left, Maya had taken to roaming the city, finally stumbling across Riley. They had been inseparable ever since.

"It's Farkle's birthday, Peaches! It's a great idea."

Maya sighed, but she picked the lock to Farkle's locker. It swung open, revealing printed off pictures of Mars from the Pathfinder, glow in the dark stars, drawings that either he or Riley had made, and pictures of himself and Riley.

Riley carefully pushed a large bouquet of flowers into the locker. No two flowers were alike, and it had taken the two girls all of the previous night to find each flower. They had taken them from people's flower boxes, bouquets on display outside stores, and in the parks around the city.

Riley looked down at her list on more time, needing to make sure that her meaning came across. She knew that he didn't know the meaning of each flower, but that was okay. He didn't have to. She had a book of meanings, and since she knew what she was telling him, it was okay if _only_ she knew. Maya could only suspect what Riley's point was, though she knew that Riley was truly, foolishly, ardently in love with Farkle Minkus.

 _Forget Me Nots: True love_

 _Deep Pink Roses: "Thank you for being in my life"_

 _Purple Pansy: You occupy my thoughts_

 _Yellow Acacia: Secret love_

 _Maiden Blush Roses: "If you love me, you will find it out"_

 _Snowdrop: Hope_

 _Honeysuckle: Generous and devoted affection_

 _Red Tulips: Declarations of love_

 _Violets: Faithful love_

Riley thought the bouquet was beautiful. It was messy and disconnected, but that's how Riley's heart felt when she looked at Farkle sometimes. It was a nice feeling, though. She slid a cupcake with thick purple frosting onto the top shelf of his locker. She had piped a sloppy heart on the top.

Farkle did love it. He loved anything Riley gave him. He loved her, after all. His locker smelled like frosting and flowers for months.

Carnation and Tulip

"Hey, Riley?" Farkle sounded confused. He never sounded confused. The boy genius, now 14 years old, never had to. He understood how the world worked, and he had Riley to understand how people worked for him.

"Hmm?" She looked at him, but she had a little baggy of seeds pinched between her lips. Every spring, she would decorate a small pot and plant flowers for him. He had trouble keeping them alive, but Riley lived for gestures like this. She was a lover of butterflies, rainbows, stuffed animals, and anything beautiful. She found everything beautiful, which Farkle had trouble comprehending, but he figured that she was better at finding the beauty in things than he was. She was one of the only things he found beauty in, so every year he took the flowers home and did his best to nurture them. This year, she bought him red carnations.

"You remember Isadora Smackle, right?"

Riley nodded. Smackle had always been Farkle's rival in the intellectual community. Over the years, they had both found people to fulfill the needs that the other could not. Riley had Maya to do the girly things that Farkle could tolerate, but not truly understand. They could giggle about boys, paint each other's nails, and learn to apply makeup together. Farkle could try to do those things, and he was actually very good at painting nails, but Maya was better suited for the job. Farkle could talk to Lucas and Zay about girls, and he sometimes did, but Smackle filled the need for intellectual stimulation.

"She asked me out today."

Riley inhaled sharply through her nose. She felt like the seed packet was welded to her lips. She was half convinced that when she tried to pull them out, she would be unable to open her mouth. "You weren't mean when you said no, right? You let her down gently?"

He flushed a little, and she peered closely at his face. She never saw this face,and she was an expert on the many faces of Farkle. "Actually," he said quietly, "I haven't said no."

"You said _yes?_ "

"I told her that I needed to think about it. She said that that was wise. What do you think I should do?" He looked at her with complete trust; complete _love_. He truly believed that Riley Matthews was the person who could give him the best advice. She always wanted what was best for him, so surely she would know what he should do now.

She swallowed thickly. She knew what was best for herself. If she was a selfish person, she would tell him not to date Smackle. She would tell him that he needed someone who pushed him to be a better person, not a better scientist. He needed someone who taught him things he had trouble learning on his own, not just things that he hadn't taken the time to learn yet. She would tell him that love wasn't always what looked best on paper. That loving him made her a better person, and she was sure that he was better for having known her. She would tell him to stay with her.

Unfortunately, she was not selfish.

"Does she make you happy?" she asked him.

He smiled one of his rare, toothy grins. "It makes me happy to have someone I can _talk_ to." He said "talk" as though he couldn't talk to her, and the hurt must have shown on her face. Everything always did. He hurried to correct himself, but the damage was done. "I love talking to you, Riley, you know I do, it's just nice to talk to somebody who understands everything I'm saying. Someone who loves what I love, you know?"

She lightened her voice, though her eyes still felt watery. She forced a smile. "You deserve that. You should say yes, if you think it'll make you happy."

"I think I will," he said. There was a certain marvel in his voice. Riley looked at the flower pot she had decorated. She had written Farkle's name with a sparkly purple paint pen. She had teased him, saying that it was perfect for her Sparkley Farkley. She had colored little hearts and stars all over it. Putting the carnation seeds in felt wrong now, like she was trying to steal something that belonged to somebody else.

He watched as she leaned away to grab a different pack of seeds. This time, she returned with yellow tulips. He wouldn't know, but she had switched from a flower that signified pure love to a flower signifying hopeless love.

Hyacinth and Chrysanthemum

"Riles?"

It was the middle of the night. She sat up, bewildered and a little frightened, until she saw the soft spikes of Farkle's hair in the light of the moon. "Farkle? Is everything okay?"

She scooched over in bed to make room for him. They laid side by side, only looking up. She wanted to look at him, but he gave a sniffle. She decided that he would probably want privacy in his sadness, so she looked at the ceiling. "Isadora broke up with me," he said, voice breaking.

"Oh, no," she breathed. Her heart was still overflowing with love for him, but there was no room for happiness in the infinite grief she felt on his behalf. "Oh, Farkle. I am so sorry."

"She said that she didn't think I loved her the way a boyfriend is supposed to love a girlfriend." He didn't tell her the rest. He didn't tell her that Smackle thought that he loved somebody else that way. He didn't tell her that Smackle had envied Riley, and rightfully so. Farkle loved Smackle, but that didn't stop him from crawling through Riley's window whenever she was sad, hurt, bored, or any other feeling, really. After dating for two years, she thought that he should be prioritizing his girlfriend's needs over his friend's. He wasn't and there must be a reason. Maybe Smackle was right. He had always loved Riley, but maybe he had overlooked the possibility of being in love with her. It wasn't the time for such thoughts, though. Not when he was laying in her bed, mourning the loss of a girl that he really had loved.

Riley wiggled herself a little closer to him to lay her head on his shoulder. They laid like that for hours, not talking. It felt like a trade of love and sorrow, sent from one body to another through the skin. Farkle made a mental note to look up the possibility of such a thing.

He was gone when Riley woke up in the morning. He had scribble _thank you_ onto one of her pink Post It notes, and she smiled. She stuck it on her mirror, where she had other notes written by Maya, Lucas, and Farkle.

She got on her laptop to order a bouquet of flowers for Farkle. In the notes section, she wrote for them to send him a bouquet of purple Hyacinths with one red Chrysanthemum in the middle. Many "I'm sorrys" with one "I love you".

...And One Time He Did

Baby's Breath

Maybe in a different life, Riley would never have noticed Farkle in a romantic way. Maybe in another life, they would have had more people to love and be loved by from the very beginning. Farkle liked to talk about it sometimes. He liked to talk about the possibility of other universes. Other realities where one seemingly small event changed everything about their lives. He talked about Stephen King novels, something about strings and universes and a macroverse, but Riley didn't understand all of that.

She didn't understand, but she did listen. Since he and Smackle had broken up a year before, he had talked more to Riley. He knew that she didn't understand it all, but he also knew that she liked to hear it anyway. Sometimes she would remember snippets of information, and it would allow him to go into more detail. She loved hearing him talk about the universe. She had a special fondness for Pluto, but she had a passion for stars and constellations that he would never tire of fueling.

"Riley," he said. She looked up at him. She had been tying baby's breath into a crown for him. She always made him crowns, and he always wore them. When he got home, he would hang them up in his room to keep until they fell apart. She put this one on his head, humming a jaunty tune like it was a ceremony.

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in fate?" They had had this conversation many times over the years, but she loved the idea of fate, destiny, all of it.

"Yes," she said reverently. She flipped onto her back, closing her eyes against the sun. She talked to him about stories and myths about fate. She talked to him about Greek myths and tragedies. He listened to her with his usual interest, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her face. He couldn't look away from the way her brown hair billowed around her heart shaped face. The way her lips curved around her teeth when she smiled. He couldn't look away, and he suspected that she didn't want him to.

He had googled what baby's breath meant in the flower language while she worked on his crown. It meant many things, but one of those meanings was everlasting love. He would have shoved it aside as coincidence, but he had found that every flower she had given him in the past year had a meaning relating to romantic love. On a whim, he had looked up the meanings of the flowers she sent him when he and Smackle broke up, remembering Riley's well read and well loved book of flowers. From there, he realized that if he was lucky, she was trying to make a statement. Oh, how he hoped she was trying to make a statement. By God, if anything could prove to Farkle beyond any doubt that there were such things as miracles, it would be to love and be loved by Riley Matthews.

"Just look at Romeo and Juliet," she was saying. "They were star-crossed. Their love was written in the stars. Fate, Farkle."

"I defy you, stars," he said softly.

"Exactly!" She sat up, beaming at him.

He leaned in close, smothering her surprised exclamation with a quick kiss. He pulled back to look at her, but she didn't allow it. She followed his lips with her own, sealing his heart and his fate to hers. She smiled against his lips, and it was as though every breath they took was an exhale of _finally_.


End file.
